


An Old Soul

by theinsandoutsofcastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:44:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5674912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinsandoutsofcastiel/pseuds/theinsandoutsofcastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For demon week, could you do Cain x Reader where he finds out that the reader is a reincarnation of Collette, is really happy and smut ensues? Thank you!:)</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Old Soul

Warnings: Reader is the reincarnation of Collette (is that a warning?), kidnapping (initially, but Cain gives the reader a chance to leave and she refuses), violence, smut, unprotected sex, language

Fic:

One mysterious disappearance after another had occurred in your town for the last month. Whole families had gone missing without a trace, only the hints of a struggle remained in their homes. Recently, the local authorities had enforced a curfew, trying to keep people off the streets at night. You should’ve been home an hour ago, but you had forgotten the curfew and now you were stuck at your friend’s house.

“Oh well,” your friend says, “It can be a girl’s night in!” The two of you decide to hang out, watching movies and drinking, until a knock on the door interrupts you.

“Who the Hell is that?” your friend asks. She sets down her drink and starts to head for the door.

“Don’t answer it,” you beg, reaching out to grab her wrist, but she shakes you off, “It could be anyone, the murderer even.”

“As if,” your friend laughs, “Stop being so dramatic. It’s probably just one of my neighbors asking for a favor.”

“This late at night?” you ask, “And with the curfew?”

“You know how people are,” she replies, “They don’t always listen to the rules. Look, I’ll just peek out the window, if it’s someone I know or the cops, I’ll open the door. If not, I’ll let the bastard sit out there.” You knew this was the best you were going to get.

The knocking sounds again, this time louder and more urgent. “Who is it?” you ask, suddenly the knocking ceases.

“I - I don’t know,” your friend answers, “I don’t see anyone.”

“That’s because you’re looking in the wrong place darling,” a voice says from behind you, causing both you and your friend to jump. You spin around to find the intruder standing behind you, calm and collected.

“Who the Hell are you?” your friend asks. The man sighs.

“The people of today lack creativity,” he says, examining his nails as if he’s bored with the two of you, “Always the same mundane questions. Who are you? How did you get in? Why are you here? What do you want with me? It’s all rather boring.”

“Well, why are you here?” your friend asks.

The man rolls his eyes. “Some people,” he mutters almost to himself, “Isn’t it obvious? I’m here to kill you sweetheart.” At first, you think he’ll come after you first seeing as you’re closer to him, but instead he walks straight past you and heads towards your friend. You knew you had to help, but you weren’t sure what to do.

Your friend tries to run, but the man reaches out and grabs her before slowly pulling a knife from his belt. Unsure of what to do, you pick up a lamp and chuck it at the intruder, aiming for his head. He flicks his hand and sends the lamp flying off in a different direction. “How…” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“Play nice and I’ll give your friend a quick, clean death,” the man says. He moves the blade up to her throat. If you had it your way, the only one who would die would be this intruder. Leaning down, you pick up the knife you had used for dinner earlier and grip it tight. In one swift movement, you jam the knife into the man’s back. You expect him to fall, but he does nothing of the sort.

“You know, that really hurt,” he says calmly as he reaches behind him and pulls the knife from his back. You begin backing away as he pushes your friend away from him, hitting her head against the wall and knocking her out cold before he turns on you. “I wasn’t here to kill you,” he says, “Only your friend, but now you’ve gone and signed your death warrant.” He stalks closer to you and pushes you against the wall.

“You don’t have to do this,” you say.

“You’ve made it necessary dear,” he responds.

“There’s good inside you, I know there is,” you say. You weren’t sure why you were saying this to a murderer, but the words felt right and familiar. “You don’t have to hurt anyone,” you tell him. His eyes search yours as if he’s searching for your soul.

“Collette?” he asks, almost as a whisper. His expression softens and he lets his hand fall away from you. His eyes widen as if he’s realized something. “Please forgive me,” he says, “I made you a promise and I broke it.” You weren’t sure what was happening or who Collette was, but maybe it meant he wouldn’t kill you or your friend. He snaps his fingers and the world shifts.

You’re too shocked by what had just happened to even ask where you were. Looking around, you appeared to be in a small farmhouse. “Do you remember me?” The man asks, reaching out to caress your cheek. You back away instinctively, a hurt look on his face.

“Whoever Collette is, she’s not me,” you say, “I have no clue who you are. All I know is that you’re a murderer and now a kidnapper.”

“I’m sorry,” the man says.

“You tried to kill my friend and me and all you have to say is sorry?” you ask, “Just take me home. We won’t go to the police and we won’t tell anyone about you. I don’t know who or what you are, I just want to go home.”

“Collette, please,” the man begins, but you cut him off.

“My name is Y/N,” you say angrily, “Not Collette.” The man runs his hands through his hair and begins pacing.

“You have her soul,” the man tells you, “She’s the only person who could ever keep me sane. When I realized you had her soul, I thought you might remember me. I thought you could help me.”

“Are you saying that I’m the reincarnation of this Collette person?” you ask. The man gives you a sad smile.

“I had hoped, but now I’m not sure,” he answers.

“Who and what are you?” you question.

“My name is Cain,” he says, holding out his hand. You take it slowly and shake his hand. “I’m a demon,” he tells you and for some reason you believed him, “And I’m very old.”

“Are you going to kill me?” you ask.

“No,” Cain says, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then will you let me go?” you ask.

“You may leave if you wish,” Cain answers, “But I had hoped you’d stay.” You pause for a moment, thinking about the circumstances. Cain had said that this Collette had helped him stay sane in the past; if you had her soul, maybe you could keep him sane too, maybe you could keep him from killing anyone else.

“I’ll stay,” you say, “If you can promise me something.”

“Anything,” Cain answers.

“Promise me you’ll stop killing and I’ll stay,” you tell him.

He laughs a small laugh before answering. “You’re just like her,” he muses, “I promise.”

***

A month goes by and you both keep your promises to each other. He was rather polite for a serial killer, kidnapper, and demon. He cooked for you and gave you his bed, opting to sleep on the couch. He never looked at you in a way that made you feel unsafe or uncomfortable and he never tried to touch you again. The more time you spent with him, the more you began to sympathize with him and care for him. Maybe it was just Stockholm syndrome, but you would even say that you were developing feelings for him.

You asked him about his past, wanting to know what led him to where he was now and he obliged, telling you everything you wanted to know. He told you about how he had killed his brother Abel and become a Knight of Hell. Later, he told you about how the mark on his arm had led him to a life of killing until he met Collette. He told you about how she had saved him, shown him that there was another way, that he could fight the mark instead of being a killer.

You liked listening to his stories. Most days, you would make a pot of tea and share it with Cain while he told you everything he could. Other days, you would help him with his bee keeping. Today however, you asked him a new question; you wanted to know what had happened to Collette. If you were a reincarnated version of her, you knew she must have died, but you wanted to know how it had happened.

Cain sits across the table from you, drizzling homemade honey into his tea, a grim look on his face. “She died,” he says simply.

“May I ask how?” you question, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“She was taken from me,” Cain tells you, “By demons who were angry that I decided to retire. They wanted me to pick up the first blade and become a killer again, so one of them possessed Collette and tricked me into killing her. With her dying breath, Collette reminded me of my promise not to kill again. I failed her.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking down at the table.

“She’d forgive you,” you say as you reach out to touch his hand. He looks up from the table, meeting your eyes before glancing down at your hand on his. He seems shocked by the sudden touch.

“How do you know?” he asks.

“You loved her and you didn’t want any harm to come to her. You tried to protect her and you can’t be blamed for that, no one could,” you answer, “You kept your promise for as long as you could. You’re a good person, you just lost your path, I’d forgive you for that and so would she.” You wrap your hand around his and brush his knuckles with your thumb.

“You forgive me?” he asks, not meeting your gaze.

“Yes,” you answer, “For everything.” After hearing his stories, you understood why he had done the things he’d done. Living alone for so long would drive anyone mad, especially after everything Cain had been forced to endure. He smiles weakly, still avoiding your gaze.

“Even for kidnapping you?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say with a laugh, “You told me I could leave remember? I decided to stay.” Cain chuckles along with you.

“Thank you for staying,” he says quietly.

“Cain,” you begin before stopping yourself, unsure if you should say what you were about to say.

“Yes?” he asks, looking up at you with those blue eyes of his.

“I,” you say before dropping your gaze to your mug, “I love you.” Cain’s only response is to hook two fingers under your chin and lift your gaze to his. His hand splays out across your cheek, the rough pad of his thumb running across your cheekbone.

“Are you sure about that Y/N?” he asks gently, letting his hand fall back to the table, “I’m a monster, remember?”

“You’re not a monster,” you say, “If Collette loved you, why can’t I? We have the same soul right? Doesn’t it make sense that I would fall in love with you?”

“I suppose,” Cain says, “But loving me is a mistake. Everything I touch dies and everything I love suffers.”

“Well, I’m not dead yet,” you say, squeezing his hand gently, “And everyone suffers at some point or another.”

“I love you Y/N,” Cain tells you, “But I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“I’m a grown woman,” you respond, “I can take care of myself.” You lean across the table and cup his cheek with your free hand before pressing your lips to his. He pushes his chair away from the table, breaking the kiss just long enough to move around the table. He holds out his other hand and you take it, allowing him to pull you from your seat and into his arms. His lips press to yours and coax yours apart gently, his rough beard a stark contrast to his lips. You take a step backward towards the bedroom, pulling Cain along with you until he gets the idea and lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you to the bedroom and lays you down on the bed, settling himself above you. His lips break from yours and travel along your jaw and to your ear.

“Are you sure you want me?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer, kissing his neck and tugging his ear with his teeth, “I’m sure.” Cain chuckles as his hands move to tangle in your hair. His tongue slides across your bottom lip, asking for permission, which you easily grant. Your hands reach for the buttons of his shirt as his tongue maps out your mouth. You open his shirt, button by button before pushing the material off his shoulders. Once his shirt I’d gone, you drag your fingers along his bare chest and back, tracing every inch of exposed skin with your fingers.

One of his hands slides down your body to your breast, palming you through your shirt. Growing tired of the material between you, you push him back so that he sits up on his knees. You pull your shirt over your head and his hands slip around to your back, unclasping your bra before he pulls the straps down your shoulders. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, almost to himself. His lips crash against yours as he pulls you to him, pressing your bare chest to his.

Cain’s fingers trail down your body until he reaches the waistband of your pants. He pulls back and watches you, as if asking for permission. Eyeing the large bulge in his pants, you trail your fingers down his chest and abdomen until you reach the button of his pants and pop them open before pulling down the zipper. Your fingers dance along the waistband of his boxers, causing him to groan. You take this as permission, so you press your hand it his boxers and take hold of his thick, hard cock, causing him to hiss. You pump your hand over him a few times, using his precum as lubricant.

His head falls back as your hand pumps over him, his hips bucking lightly into your hand. “You have to stop,” he warns. He pulls your hand from him and presses you back against the bed. His fingers quickly open your pants and pull them and your panties down, tossing them to the side before he pulls his own pants and boxers from his body, his hard cock springing free. He kisses his way from your lips down to your thighs, stopping only to suck your nipple between his lips and pull it out with his teeth before doing the same to the other. His lips leave kisses down one of your thighs, his beard tickling your skin as he goes, before kissing up your other thigh.

“I need you inside me, please,” you beg. Cain’s eyes flick up to watch you as he slides two fingers into your aching, wet core, curling and scissoring them inside you. This wasn’t exactly what you had wanted, but you weren’t going to complain either. His rough fingertips press against your g-spot, causing your walls to tighten around his fingers. “Cain, please,” you beg, bucking your hips against his hand.

Cain leans down to kiss your hip before kissing his way back up to your lips. You tangle your fingers in his hair and tug. “I need you, please,” you beg. Cain kisses your lips as he pulls his fingers from you, leaving you empty. You whimper at the loss, but he kisses your lips, swallowing the sound as he settles himself between your legs. One of his hands twists into your hair as the other moves down to your hip, holding you to the bed.

The tip of his cock presses against your entrance and you wrap a leg around his waist, trying to get him to enter you. Cain obliges, pushing into you inch by inch until he’s fully sheathed inside you causing you both to moan. He kisses you as he begins thrusting, slow and gentle. His hand slides up from your waist and his fingers intertwine with your own, pressing your hand back against the bed beside your head. His lips break from yours and move to the spot where your neck meets your shoulder, kissing and sucking lightly.

His thrusts fall into a steady rhythm that has you both moaning and groaning. Your hips raise from the bed to meet his thrusts, forcing him deep inside you, making him grunt and groan with each thrust. His name falls from your lips in moans and gasps as he fills you over and over again. You drag your nails along his scalp and down his back before digging your fingertips into his shoulder. Cain changes his rhythm, mixing slow, deep thrusts with quick, shallow ones.

The knot in your stomach coils as his new rhythm takes hold of you. “Cain,” you moan, your back arching off the bed. His hand tightens around your own as his lips move to your pulse point and kiss the spot. Cain’s thrusts become erratic as his cock twitches inside you. The knot in your stomach snaps, causing you to cry out as your walls clamp down around him. Your orgasm sparks his. He groans your name as his cock pulses and he spills himself deep inside you. His thrusts slow and come to a stop before he pulls himself from you, kissing your lips as he does.

Cain moves to lie by your side, sliding an arm under your neck and the other around your waist. He pulls you to his side and you snuggle in closer to him, your legs tangled with his. Looking up at him, you begin to giggle.

“What?” he asks, narrowing his eyes as he looks down at you.

“Your hair,” you answer before running your fingers through his disheveled hair and straightening it out. He laughs before catching your wrist and letting your hand slide through his until he catches your fingertips. He raises your knuckles to his lips and presses a kiss to them.

“Why did you decide to stay?” he asks.

“We had a deal and you kept your end, so I had to keep mine,” you answer, “Plus I wanted to stay.”

“With an old demon like me?” he asks, “You do realize that I’m a fair few millennia older than you.”

“Well, age is just a number right?” you ask, “Besides, I’ve got a thing for older men.” Cain smiles at you and laughs before pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Thank you for staying with me,” Cain says, “For reminding me who I really am.”

“You’re welcome,” you respond, “But you really don’t have to thank me. You lean in and press your lips to his gently. "I love you,” you whisper as you snuggle in closer to him, sleep starting to come over you.

“I love you too Y/N,” you hear him whisper. Cain pulls the sheets up around the both of you and holds you close as you drift off to sleep.


End file.
